Shame binds and dictates, blinds and slanders.  Shame holds two in a broken embrace.  Shame weakens attachments, kills potential, and ends lives.  It is the master magician who makes the moment interminable.

Shame acts as if it precedes Being which translates into: “I suck therefore I am!”

The face of shame hides its eyes from the world.  The feet of shame walk in the margins and gutters of the world.  The tongue of shame speaks of unworthiness.  The body is disfigured: too small or too large. Achievement, gratitude, and joy slip through the cracks in the self.  The mask of shame wears the thin smile of normality and with an element of luck the sneer of excellence.

Shame lives as clearly in the window paned-towers of Wall Street as it does on the planes of the Kalahari, and as it did in that prosaic moment in the garden.

Shame mistakes the false self of defectiveness for the true self and weaves a dream-like veneer that is taken for Reality! The simple tragedy of shame is that it wants to be other than itself. It drives itself to extreme lengths. It swims against the current of being and the textures of life in tantalizing pursuit of this other self. It gauges the world with an instrument of impossibility whose gravity is a force beyond measure.

The future of shame is an endless repetition, a flat line, a cracked pitcher.  Like the proverbial frightened dream-figure who cannot move, or the mythological prisoner enchained, it stands fragilely in the presence of beauty, and destitute by its encounter with chance.

Shame goes to therapy as it goes to the bar.  It enters the consultation room with one hand extended and the other withdrawn, its fingers crossed in fear and disgust. Shame engages the therapist with small talk and the desire to change: its need for help an open wound.  Shame brings to the table a plenitude of rage that surrounds the pain. It can only seem to ask for help, and as quickly reject it. Shame is anchored in the conviction of defectiveness that dresses every wound, and shadows every movement. This belief that can appear as humility is shored with contempt.

Shame presents difficulties, tests, and temptations for the therapist.  It extends a mirror for therapists to reflect upon and sets a stage upon which the two can play, with the preferred role assumed by the therapist.

Shame softens within the tenderness of a patient psychotherapy. When effective, psychotherapy secures its role as a beacon whose illumination glows in presence and wanes in absence.  In time, in the face of all that has been remembered and forgotten, and through repetitive movements that seem like a glacial dance, Shame releases shame. It staggers forward across the emotional precipice of unworthiness and surrenders to a warmth that learns empathy for itself.

I write these words as I climb my wall of shame erected by the pain of my faults. I can see from my small perch across the wastelands a reflection of a better being, beckoning sometimes in the form of a lover, other times a dream, and ever mysterious as if seeded by a spirit.

At the contact zone between human and networked computer our unconscious needs, and desires perform. What qualities of the networked computer greet us, act upon us, tempt, change us or simply beguile and seduce us? Where do we go online?   Who do we become?  What is our digital fingerprint?  What is the relationship between our online and offline selves?  Have we become posthuman?

While there has been considerable theorizing about the impact of computers on identity, its immediate impact can be gauged by utilization patterns. A study conducted by the Stanford University Institute for the Quantitative Study of Society 10 years ago found that most people utilized the Internet for mundane purposes: communication, information gathering and entertainment. Little has changed. A more recent study by the Kaiser Family Foundation study, “Generation M2: Media in the Lives of 8- to 18-Year-Olds” (2010) found that the three most popular computer activities among 8- to 18-year-olds are going to social networking sites such as MySpace and Facebook, playing computer games, and watching videos on sites such as YouTube.

In an article titled “Slouching Toward the Ordinary: Current Trends in Computer-Mediated Communication,” (2004) Susan C. Herring concluded by stating, “In short, after barely more than 30 years of existence, Computer-Mediated Communication CMC has become more of a practical necessity than an object of fascination and fetish.”

Even the more alluring virtual worlds lean toward the conventional. Tom Boellstorf conducted an anthropological field study of the culture of Second Life that he published as a book, Coming of Age in Second Life in 2008. He conducted this study using an avatar who lived in and observed the activities of Second Life. In his concluding chapter, he wrote, “Throughout my research, I was struck by the banality of second life.” He quotes a second life resident who said, “the dirty secret of virtual worlds; all people end up doing is replicating their real lives.” “Virtual worlds do not change everything, but neither are they reducible to what came before them.”

The gap between the potential and actual effects of the Internet is enormous and not to be bridged. It speaks to the intrinsic dialectic between the wonderment of our creativity and the conservative nature of our being. The dialectic of change and stasis is an evolving structural dimension of the individual and culture. Between the possibility of transcendence and the tedious replication of reality that the Internet presents, we are uncertainly and inescapably drawn towards questions of being-in-the-world that inform this process and humbled by the unpredictability of the next moment.

“The Computer is not a hammer.”

Part One: The Potential

Echoing Marshal McLuhan iconic phrase “the medium is the message,” Mark Poster emphasized that to understand the impact of the computer on the individual one needs to view it not as a tool but as a complex, multidimensional experience.  In What’s The Matter with the Internet, (2001) he wrote, “The computer is not a hammer…The Internet is more like a social space than a thing so that its effects are more like Germany than a hammer.”  In the spirit of expansiveness I would suggest that the potential effects of the computer are more like a distant planet than a familiar geographical place with predictable rules.

At the contact zone between human and networked computer lies the next frontier, a promise of something latent and unrealized.  Cyberspace, virtual reality, and digital environments while not interchangeable terms, describe the computer generated creation of interactive spaces ranging from email, to social networking sites like Facebook, to simulated gaming, to virtual worlds such as Second Life, an online 3-D interactive virtual environment that some call a parallel universe.

Between the world of social networking that involves the establishment of a personal profile, a data centric image, and sharing and updating of personal information within a network of  “friends” and virtual environments such as Second Life where individuals construct anonymous personas, avatars that work, play, and interact in a constructed online environment, there is a world of difference that speaks to the complexity of the phenomena of the Internet. We are ambling on a long yellow brick road with multiple forks and multiple dimensions leading from each fork.

Choice and utilization patterns are critical dimensions that affect how the networked computer impacts the individual. Yet, as we become more empowered by the use of the computer, we also become more love-blind and dependent. As we become more dependent, we risk becoming increasingly unaware of the affective significance of its impact.  Choice then becomes situated as an after thought.

Sherry Turkle who wrote Life on The Screen: Identity in the Age of the Internet in 1995 captured the transformative potential of the computer.  “The computer takes us beyond a world of dreams and beasts because it enables us to contemplate mental life that exists apart from bodies.  It enables us to contemplate dreams that do not need beasts.  The computer is an evocative object that causes old boundaries to be renegotiated.” (p23)

Turkle asserted that these environments hold the possibility of personal discovery and transformation. “The Internet has become a significant laboratory for experimenting with the constructions and reconstructions of self that characterize post modern life.” She sees Virtual environments as providing a moratorium in Erickson’s terminology or a transitional space in Winnicott’s words, a place to play, to try things out without actual consequence.

These digital environments give expression to emotional and unconscious aspects of our personality. Their malleability extends the domain of unconscious realization. Freedom from embodiment and the constraints of matter provide the possibility for play that alters the boundaries between the real and virtual, the self and the not-self.  Something of dream-space has been deposited in the virtual waking world.

Theorists have represented this intertwined relationship with terms like posthuman, cyborg, and digital self to suggest a new symbiotic humachine entity. Katherine Hayles in her book How We Became Posthuman: Virtual bodies in Cybernetics, Literature, and Informatics (1999) employed the term posthuman to envision the outline of an emerging conception of the individual defined “by a dynamic partnership between humans and intelligent machines.”  (p288) She views the individual’s self and capacities for thinking as constituted by the smart machines in the environment. Hayles employs the concept, “distributed cognition,” to emphasize the social, contextual aspects of thinking. One doesn’t exist as an autonomous self whose essence is kept deeply within, but rather as an interdependent entity whose capacities are exquisitely and complexly coordinated with objects, machines, and individuals in the environment. The Google search engine exemplifies distributed intelligence as it supplements memory.

At the contact zone between human and networked computer our unconscious needs, and desires perform. What qualities of the networked computing greet us, act upon us, tempt and lure us, change us or simply beguile and seduce us? Where do we go online?  Who do we become? What is our digital fingerprint?   Most importantly what is the relationship between our online and offline selves? Have we become posthuman?

Recently, two clients weeks asked me the same question in response to my suggestion that they need to forgive themselves.  “How does one forgive oneself?” For a moment I was silenced. I didn’t have an immediate answer.

One client remarked that he couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of self-forgiveness;  “It is such a cliché,” he said. It was not my intent to prescribe clichés as solutions to complex and painful psychological states.

To each client I said the question was an excellent one that required further thinking. I realized that the superficial way we as a sanctioned healing profession bandy the prescription “forgive yourself,” reveals a larger dilemma that is weighted down by cultural values. A quick palliative would be a disservice. As a profession we must question our impetus for quick cures and recognize the presence of external pressures, cultural and economic, along with internal pressures that might lead us down soothing but misleadingly easy paths.  Psychotherapists neither administer absolutions nor wave magic wands.

I did suggest that forgiveness was not a simple matter of saying, “Sorry self I didn’t mean to beat you up.”  It is an attitude born out of self-examination.  Without self-examination forgiveness is like putting a Band-Aid over a gaping wound. And with each of my client’s, the wounds were deeply embedded in a vast interior region of shame.

We had entered difficult emotional territory.  One client pulled back, retreated into a series of intellectualized questions brined with anger.  The other client went deeper, making connections between earlier wounds and his current malaise.  What differentiates the psychological capacity of individuals for self-examination is a subject for another essay.

The client who explored the question of forgiveness is a single, successful professional in his early 30’s who had been feeling anxious and depressed for many years prior to starting therapy.  I had been seeing him in weekly psychotherapy for about three years.  Recently, he had been arrested for a DUI after having been stopped for speeding.  He was angry and ashamed.  His blood alcohol level was just below the legal limit.  Although he felt that the police unfairly arrested him, his anger was directed mainly at himself. He described how he had been initially polite with the police, but continued calling them “sir” with what he derided as a “pussy bullshit attitude” even after the police had handcuffed him.  He felt that this was unacceptable.

He had a court appearance and had consulted with an attorney.  Even though he felt reasonably certain that charges would be dropped, he described feeling an overwhelming sense of weakness” and that everything was out of control since his arrest.  He was plagued by obsessive thoughts.  Repeatedly, he imagined going to court, angering the judge who then sentenced him to 20 years in prison.

I asked why he thought he was having such thoughts.  He didn’t have a clue. Knowing his history, I suggested that his obsessive thinking represented a punishing fantasy in which he repeatedly victimized himself for acting weak.  He took in what I said and thought it made sense. I wondered why he was so angry with himself for what seemed at worst a minor offense.  At this point I suggested that he might forgive himself.

As we explored the question of forgiveness, he realized that the thought of forgiving himself had never occurred to him; instead he felt that he needed to teach himself a “hard lesson,” a lesson that he had been hammering himself with for many years. His obsessive fantasy represented one module in the lesson plan.

The obstacle to forgiveness is self-hate: hatred for the objectionable and unacceptable aspects of the self. Self-hate is embedded in core beliefs about the self and is often unwittingly administered.  It is unconscious and present in what I’ve described in an earlier blog as negative self-talk, the background noise of self-loathing. The personal obstacles to self-forgiveness are reinforced by cultural values that prescribe a “tough love” regimen for self-improvement.  The essence of this regimen is embodied in the message “Be strong, show no vulnerability, admit no weakness” as you learn the hard lessons of life on your own.

In contrast, self-forgiveness is an integral aspect of personal growth that involves examination and acceptance of weakness, failure, and disappointment.  It entails identifying personal shortcomings, recognizing the subtle judgments, punitive fantasies that characterize one’s reactions, and challenging their veracity.   It calls for an effort to understand these failings within the larger context of ones’ life. To this end Carl Jung said, “The patient does not feel himself accepted, unless the very worst in him is accepted too.”

My client had his court date.  No charges had been filed, and he was feeling much better. He described how the last session gave him the “bonk on the head that he needed.”  He explained how he had not realized how badly he had been torturing himself with his obsessive fantasies until I had pointed it out.  When he stopped the fantasizing, he began to feel better.

Sheepishly, he said that he was beginning to understand what forgiveness meant.  He compared his situation to being in a relationship. “If you were angry at your partner and did not forgive her, you would be stuck, not growing. I was doing that to myself.” With this insight, he felt he had found a new guiding principle. He was eager to put this realization at the front of his conscious mind and wondered what that would be like.

“Come gather ’round people

Wherever you roam

And admit that the waters

Around you have grown

And accept it that soon

You’ll be drenched to the bone.”

”The times they are a-changin’”

Bob Dylan

I would like to share some impressions about the conference on Psychology and Technology that occurred on November 7, 2009 in Pasadena,  as well as more general thoughts about the impact of technology on the practice of psychology and the personal experience of identity.

What is a conference?  To borrow a concept from (1) Mary Louise Pratt a professor of Spanish and Portuguese, a conference is a “contact zone.” She used the phrase to describe the “social spaces where disparate cultures meet, clash, and grapple with each other, often in highly asymmetrical relations of domination and subordination.”

This phrase has evocative relevance on several levels.

In my pre-conference reflections I employed the phrase to describe the intertwined, complex, and symbiotic nature of the relationship between human and networked computer, to underscore the unspoken power dynamics embedded in this relationship, and to implicate certain mythic narratives in the amplification of this relationship, beginning with Prometheus who stole fire from the gods, through Frankenstein, the modern Prometheus, and leading to Hal, (perhaps a post-modern Prometheus) whose independent artificial intelligence turned against the crew of Discovery One.  I will return to this relationship in a subsequent post.

The phrase also speaks to the idea that “disparate” cultures came together at a conference.  According to Bruce Gale Ph.D. our first speaker, one way to describe these cultures is by analogy. Dr. Gale illustrated these differences through a humorous comparison of how ostriches, owls, and otters employ tools.

There were a few wise otters in the audience, and we certainly benefited from the wealth of knowledge of our presenters.  The owls, if present, kept their predatory nature in the shadows.  What about the ostriches?  As Dr. Gale informed us, ostriches don’t bury their heads in the sand, only humans to.

A courageous group of ostriches removed their heads from the sand to attend this conference. Were their anxieties allayed?  Were their concerns addressed? Were they motivated to cross the technological divide?  And what about the ostriches who kept their distance? What is this fear of technology that seems to characterize many in our profession?

One participant described the conference as equivalent to exposure therapy, which we know is a well documented treatment for phobias. Those who attended were exposed to a rich, detailed, complex and at times overwhelming amount of information that has the potential to enhance if not transform their practice.

Bruce Gale Ph.D. exposed us to the basics of computing.  We learned about web tools, online resources, office hardware and specialized software. Marlene Maheu Ph.D. and Skip Rizzo Ph.D. respectively exposed the group to glimpses into the present and not too distant future where telehealth and virtual reality applications will become an increasingly larger part of the clinician’s toolbox. We learned from Anna Marie Piersimoni about the labyrinthian world of social networking and from Kaveri Subrahmanyam’s Ph.D. research how adolescents use social networking applications like Facebook.

The conference clarified two trends that characterize the trajectory of technological change. The first speaks to the conservative nature of change. Dr. Subrahmanyam’s research on how adolescents use technology, particularly Facebook indicate that adolescent’s extensive use of technology is characterized by conventional objectives: they use social networking applications primarily to connect with their offline peers.  Most adolescents are not seeking new online relationships, exploring virtual worlds and experimenting with alternative versions of self.  Adolescent developmental needs trump technology and illustrates how the dynamic of change, even rapid technological change is constrained by shifts between processes of accommodation and assimilation.

The second trend speaks to the speculative not too distant future that portends more dramatic change to the way we practice and the way we live. Dr. Subrahmanyam referred to the adolescents in her study as “digital natives,” individuals born into a digital environment where the medium of exchange whether shopping, socializing, listening to music is digitally mediated. These “digital natives” will be our future clients.  As they grow up, they will not only look for therapists online, but they will be comfortable with and might seek technologically mediated therapy such as virtual reality treatment applications or online counseling.

What will clinicians need to do to adapt to this changing environment? It is not news that mental health professionals are lagging behind the curve of technological change. While many clinicians use email, shop, and bank online, they have yet to adapt their practice to this changing environment, outside of some who use billing software and perhaps have signed on to the Psychology Today Therapist Directory website. More and more clinicians have websites, few blog, and many look upon Facebook as a scourge. We won’t even mention Twitter.

There are many reasons for this reluctance, some fear based and some based on conceptions about the practice of psychotherapy.  What we learned from Dr. Subrahmanyam’s presentation is that ostriches are “digital immigrants.”  “Digital immigrants” are newcomers to this mediated world of networked computers and smart phones. Like most immigrants we are threatened by the necessity to learn a new language and set of social-cultural guidelines for acting and conducting business.

So what don’t we do? I am reminded of my grandparents who until this moment I never identified with.  They emigrated to the U.S. from Russia when they were in their early twenties.  They lived in this country for over 50 years.  They never really learned English and they associated exclusively with relatives and their immigrant friends.  They had a pervasive fear of the dominant culture and a deeply rooted sense of insecurity and I believe inadequacy. They buried their heads in the sand and stood on the shoulders of their children to navigate their new world.

So what do we do? Most immediately we need to acknowledge our fear and examine how we are coping with this challenge.  At the very least we must remove our heads from the sand and take stock. Beyond this recognition, we need to become fluent in basic computing, understand the communicative power of the Internet, and then make decisions about how to implement these tools into our practice. Adaptation will not simply involve taking online and offline classes; it will also require an openness to change our conceptions of how we practice psychotherapy.

Perhaps we are amidst a paradigm shift that at present has mostly the scent of fear.

“If your time to you

Is worth savin’

Then you better start swimmin’

Or you’ll sink like a stone

For the times they are a-changin’.”

(1) Pratt, Mary Louise,  1992. Imperial Eyes: Travel Writing and Transculturation,  Routledge.